


The Way You Hold Me (feels so holy)

by no_big_deal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternative Universe - The Good Place, Angels, Demons, Doggy Style, F/M, Fire, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hook-Up, Horns, Humor, No Babies, No Pregnancy, One positive comment about Consensual Dubcon, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-public masturbation, Sex Vacation, Smut, Spanking, Transformation, Undernegotiated Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vague reference to COVID-19 pandemic, Wings, diphallia, general discussion of death and dying, mention of the Rainbow Bridge, mild D/s dynamics for like a minute, no beta we die like men, yes Hux has a two-headed cock in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal/pseuds/no_big_deal
Summary: After a Zoom conference call between The Good Place and The Bad Place, Angel Rose and Demon Hux plan a holiday hookup at the Four Seasons in Mexico City.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38
Collections: Gingerose Holiday Exchange 2020: Secret Spy





	The Way You Hold Me (feels so holy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eyanril](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyanril/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Eyanril! I hope you enjoy this & thank you for being a part of ~Gingerrose~ the greatest little fandom in the world! 
> 
> Note: This fic contains NO SPOILERS for The Good Place.
> 
> Basic premise of The Good Place: When humans die, they proceed to an afterlife where they are sorted into either The Good Place or The Bad Place based on morality points accrued during life. Souls are either rewarded with a life of fun and ease (The Good Place) or tortured by demons (The Bad Place). The afterlife system is run by committees; for example, there’s an afterlife accounting department. It’s all rather corporate. If you have not watched the show, but enjoyed The Office, Parks & Rec, or Brooklyn Nine-Nine, I highly recommend it. 
> 
> Title from [Holy](https://youtu.be/pvPsJFRGleA) by The Biebs & Chance the Rapper.
> 
> The first half or so if this fic is my self indulgent poking fun at religion and corporate life stand up routine. The second half is the self indulgent smut.

Hux clicked to join the Zoom meeting, already bored. A window popped up and he scowled; the top of his head was cut off. That wouldn’t do. He adjusted the screen so he was in frame, horns and all. 

Why in heaven’s name the Joint Council on Afterlife Affairs’ subcommittee on Mortality Review Statistics used Zoom for meetings, he did not know. This was his first time on one of these conference calls. In adherence to The Bad Place’s regulations regarding absolute chaos at all times, a new demon was chosen, at random, each week to attend intra-departmental committee meetings. Hux hadn’t been forwarded the agenda, or even told what the meeting was about. He'd been instructed to “represent the office” to the best of his ability, or, you know, not. In this case, the Devil really wasn’t into the details.

He straightened his tie as the screen flickered, new boxes with the faces of the other meeting attendees popping up next to his. The first box, filled with a blindingly white light, was obviously The Good Place representative, a group of beings with whom Hux had very little exposure. A second showed a man Hux recognized as Finn, the afterlife’s man on Earth, sitting on the inside of what was obviously a terrestrial coffee shop. The third was a man with dark, sleepy eyes and curly hair with a name tag that read: 

Hux curled his hand into a fist. _Dameron._ The last time he'd had the misfortune to associate with Dameron he’d been demoted to the fucking _Consort Department_ where he’d spent _hundreds of years_ on Earth, inducing old women to attend Witches’ Sabbaths. It had been _awful._

He wondered if that was even a thing anymore. 

“Welcome, welcome everybody,” Poe said genially. “Everybody see and hear me okay?” Finn waved and Hux gave a nod of his head in a way that he hoped sent chills down Poe’s spine, but Poe kept taking roll. “Rose, Rose…” Poe winced slightly. “I think you have to pull back a little, maybe adjust—” 

The all-white frame shimmered as the being before it pulled back. Hux grimaced as the figure, with four faces, some human, some animal, each with glowing eyes, red as supernova, came into view. The picture flickered. Three dazzling pairs of wings—incorporating intricate patterns of all color from both visible and invisible spectrums—appeared on the screen. Around the great and terrible body, three large, looped wheels circled each other, the insides and outsides covered with multi-colored eyes of all shapes and sizes.

“Jesus Christ,” Hux muttered, caught off guard by an inexplicable surge of physical attraction for the fearsome presence. He couldn’t explain it, but her power, her glory… he shifted in his seat. Maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so boring after all.

“Rose, why don’t you just—yeah—yeah, thanks—” Poe managed to articulate as the luminous being he kept calling _Rose_ slowly transformed from the awe-inspiring, unnerving _creature_ that even The Bad Place couldn’t compete with, into a buxom, petite _girl_ with jet black hair and dimpled cheeks. A single pair of white wings fluffed out from her shoulders. A single glittery halo circled over her head and she wore a simple white robe. Hux felt a surge of annoyance that she was attractive no matter what form she took. He only had the one body, and made do as best he could. The Good Place types were so _extra._

“Thanks Rose, much better,” Poe said, giving her a thumbs up, though her face seemed to fall at his words. “We appreciate it.”

Hux leaned in closer to the laptop screen, checking his hair, ensuring it was neat around his burnished gold horns—his best feature, in his opinion. They started near the front of his head, thick on each side like a ram. Curling around, like a crown, the gleaming protrusions then tapered down to points, near his nape. He turned his head slightly to the right, the better to show off their details in the flickering lights of his office. His long, leathery wings snapped twice in excitement. He couldn’t tell if Rose was looking at _him_ on her laptop, but perversely, he hoped so. 

“So let’s get down to business,” Poe began. “First item on the agenda, Finn’s report of how things are going on Earth. What you got for us Finn?”

Finn unmuted himself with a nod. “Well, Poe, things are not great here.” He launched into some incredibly dry statistics about a new plague humanity had managed to release upon itself and showed no inclination to prevent spreading. After that was the birth rate report followed by Finn noting a fluctuation in accidental fatal injury statistics and an article he’d read about aging populations and advances in human medical technology that impacted souls leaving the planet for points beyond.

Hux found it all rather tedious. He hadn't given much thought to how human souls arrived in The Bad Place and he didn’t much care about what they’d experienced before getting there. All he knew is that once they arrived… 

He ran his finger under his collar, pulling it slightly away from his neck. Once human souls arrived in The Bad Place, it was his job to make and distribute the schedules for the demons in his unit so that all the torture chambers were fully staffed at all times and that statistics on said torture were delivered up the chain to the Vice President in charge of The Pit of Fire. 

He didn’t do any hands-on torture, per se. One wouldn’t, as a middle manager in The Bad Place. A covetous position, if not a particularly interesting one. 

After a while, Hux tuned Finn out entirely, drawn to Rose, fascinated by her otherworldly glow, light and airy. She wouldn't be able to tell that he was checking her out over Zoom and that was all for the best. If that cute little angel knew that the sweetheart neckline of her heavenly robes was a perfect tight fit on her heavenly globes, she might readjust her laptop camera, and then Hux would be out of a show. He licked his teeth.

“Alright, any questions for Finn?” Poe asked, and Hux rolled his eyes and made sure he was still on mute. If no one asked any questions, the sooner this meeting would end.

So of course, there were questions.

The Good Place was very concerned, apparently, about the human plague as well as all the other little problems humans had managed to bring upon themselves. Finn answered all Rose’s questions with patience and thoroughness. After what seemed like an interminable ten minutes, Rose looked down at her notes with a nod. 

“Thank you, Finn.” Her lovely voice floated through his laptop speakers as her dimple winked devilishly. Hux felt the unexpected urge to lick it. Rose glanced back up at her screen and Hux had the oddest sensation that she was looking right at him.

“A couple updates from the Accounting Department…” began Poe, who pulled out a file folder covered with what looked like a battlefield of post-it notes where all sides lost. He flipped through a few pages stuffed in the ratty file. Fucking Dameron never could stay organized. As a result of one of his legendary paperwork SNAFUs, Hux had spent nearly a thousand years hanging out with grandmothers, possessing the bodies of cats and owls and newts and _fucking rats…_

Hux knew he wouldn’t be able to listen to Dameron without setting the room on fire (more than it normally was), so he watched Rose. Her smiles were outside the realm of his experience. Her dulcet voice and easy laughter swept away his worries, and his heart thrummed with an increasing sense of wonder—no, not wonder—it was salacious, seven deadly sin level _lust._ And it wasn't his heart; it was his dick. For sure.

She sat listening to Poe, eyes shining, hair shining, halo shining looking as beautiful as.... well, in The Bad Place there weren’t any metaphors that ran along those lines. For what it was worth, she was radiant as the glowing river of lava flowing into The Pit. 

Not that he cared about beauty. Not one bit. He turned up the contrast on his laptop and then turned it back down, considering. He lusted for her curves, he envied her brassière, he was a glutton for her décolletage. Definitely gluttonous for her curvaceous little body.

His horns tingled.

“Anything else?” Poe asked, after responding to something Finn had said. 

“Sooooo......” Poe drawled. “Demon—uh, Fire Demon Hux! Welcome and, uh, what’s the report from The Bad Place this week?”

Hux cleared his throat and unmuted his mic. Leaning forward he spoke loudly into the laptop. “Fuck you, Dameron.”

He put himself back on mute, chuckling darkly at the looks of irritation and annoyance on Finn and Poe’s faces and feeling his internal fires burn hotter at the sight of Rose turning up her nose at his indelicate language.

With her nose in the air like that he could just imagine how she’d look on her knees before him with his forked cock stretching her cherubic red mouth.

“Hux, really,” Poe said, his voice brimming with annoyance. “It’s been .... a millenia. How do you even remember that?”

Hux kept his laptop on mute, staring daggers into the little box with Poe’s face. That idiot really had another thing coming if he believed demons were into the whole forgiving/forgetting thing. Hux flipped him off, setting off a series of groans from Poe and Finn and a little “tsk tsk tsk” from Rose, the noise causing the perfect bow of her lips to purse up like a pillow.

The perfect little pillow for his cock—his brain only had one gear today it seemed—and he was getting firmer by the second, the longer he looked at her soft dimpled cheeks and soft dimpled breasts and soft dimpled elbows and _Jesus fuck,_ these _soft_ thoughts were not reflections worthy of a Fire Demon. They’d started out lustily enough, but he was a _fucking fire demon._ He wanted to burn this girl alive, set her on fire from the inside out, enflame her every passion until the sparks exploded from her every pore.

He did not want to kiss her adorable dimpled elbows. He wanted to do _unspeakable_ things to them.

“Ugh, he’s doing the red eye thing.” Finn’s voice came through his laptop, a slight tinge of disgust evident. “Nothing productive happens when they do the red eye thing.”

Hux caught a glimpse of himself in the Zoom camera, and indeed, his lascivious thoughts had turned his eyes the deep glowing red of charcoal at its hottest. He looked at Rose to see her reaction.

She smiled serenely at the screen. “I can deliver my report now, Poe.”

And at the same moment a private chat message popped up. 

> From: Rose2Hvn
> 
> To: Hux@samael.org
> 
> _Chat after?_

Rose delivered her report on the seven hundred and fifty thousand souls who had entered The Good Place since the previous meeting, noting for the group that The Good Place renovated its rec center with a squash court and an expanded sauna _and_ that they’d found a way to keep the Rainbow Bridge open for extended weekend hours so there were a lot more dogs and cats running around the place.

Hux unmuted his laptop. “What in god’s name is a weekend?” he snarled. A deep look of breathtaking pity crossed Rose’s face.

“No weekends in The Bad Place, huh,” said Poe, sounding not at all surprised.

Hux muted up again as Finn and Rose asked about something called the _Cloud 9 Initiative_ having to do with equitable harp distribution and turned his attention to figuring out how to start a private chat with Rose.

Hux couldn’t figure it out. They didn’t use Zoom in The Bad Place for their interdepartmental meetings, they used Microsoft Teams, or sometimes, Skype for Business, when whoever was leading the meeting was feeling exceptionally onery. It was obnoxious because he was still half hard and his lustful thoughts were slipping away the longer he had to hear Finn talk about religious developments on Earth. He grabbed at his cock as much as he could through his tight black leather pants. 

There wasn’t a rule about jerking it at work, per se, this was The Bad Place after all. So he took another look at Rose’s creamy skin and imagined her wings tickling his ass, and he touched himself.

Since he wasn’t paying attention, the end of the meeting came as a surprise. Poe said something like “see you next week—well, probably not you, Hux,” and _blip_ the Zoom window closed and the faces were gone. 

_Bloop._

Hux accepted the invitation that popped up on his screen. His suspicions were confirmed when Rose appeared. She looked very stern and somehow, that easily made him ten percent harder than he’d been a second ago. 

“Hey Angel,” he growled, enjoying how much more space she took up on his screen now that Poe and Finn weren't around. “Looking for a bad time?”

Rose rolled her eyes. 

“Come on, Angel,” Hux purred, drawing deep on all the seduction techniques he’d cultivated over the millennia. “Gonna take that top off for Hux? Maybe slip that little hand under that soft white robe and let me watch?” His own hand was now digging inside his pants to get at his burning hot skin. “Come on Angel, it’ll feel so good.”

 **_“Hux.”_ ** Rose’s voice rumbled like the thunder and rang like ten thousand bells, a cacophony of supernatural power that struck terror in the hearts of shepherds and started a tremor in Hux’s balls. **_“I am in the Public Library.”_ **

His brow furrowed and he swallowed the impulse to say _so what._ “You have libraries in The Good Place?”

“Of course we do! Fully funded public libraries. I mean where do you go in The Bad Place when you have to get out of the office but need a quiet place to get work done?”

Hux just stared back at her, exaggerating the jerking motion of his arm. “Lecture me more Angel,” he teased, rolling his head, his mouth falling open in a mockery of ecstasy. “Tell me what a naughty boy I’ve been.”

She pursed her lips primly. “Let’s just speed things up, okay? Skip to the end where we—” 

“Your fucking mouth is so—” he hissed as pleasure tingled up his spine. “Rose, you have to let me—” 

She cleared her throat and leaned towards the screen. “We can meet on Earth if you want to finish that sentence.”

 _“What?_ Earth, I can’t go to Earth, I’ve only been at this job for six thousand years. I don't have earned time off yet.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to take an unpaid day!”

“Wait,” Hux said. “You get paid for going to work?”

☁️💖☁️

Rose leaned towards her screen to hiss into the microphone—she had her earbuds in but, still—she was talking to a _Fire Demon_ in her little cubby in The Good Place Public Library so she couldn’t be too loud.

She also couldn’t say why she wanted to chat up this demon—certainly he’s one of the better looking ones—demons are usually a hot mess in terms of their physicality and grooming. But not Hux. Hux looks like he smells like sandalwood and myrrh and she wants to get to know him—biblically. 

He’s got neat hair, a trim frame, and based on the length of his arms (which she’s gotten a pretty good look at while he's been pleasuring himself during their call) she can tell he’s tall. His horns are very shiny, the joins look smooth and they sit regally on his head. Angelic, of course, in a dark way. 

She really shouldn’t be doing this. For one, he’s a _baby,_ probably twenty thousand years old at most, compared to her over four billion. It was almost going to be too easy to get him thinking along the same lines she was considering he was _already masturbating_ in front of her. 

For two, she didn’t need the hassle. But it had been _so long_ since she'd last been with anyone interesting. Thanks to her busy work schedule, it was so difficult to meet new people, and she was on a dry spell of galactic proportions. These committee meetings weren’t her normal gig, she was just filling in. Most days she hovered in the far reaches of the void, communing with time and light, lending her strength to gravity. Upholding the elemental foundations of the universe tended to be stressful and time consuming. Not to mention astonishingly lonely. Some excitement, some company, might not be so bad. To get her groove back, that sort of thing.

Anyway, he was merely a Fire Demon, an _elemental._ The Makers had brought her into existence when they first formed the atoms. Her powers far exceeded his in every conceivable way. He couldn’t hurt her; she would never be in any danger. This could just be a bit of harmless fun. 

She leaned towards her screen; his eyes slammed shut, and—she couldn’t quite hear—but he mumbled something about her tits. She rolled her eyes as he orgasmed, two jets of spend shooting out in opposite directions.

Two seconds later he smoothed his tie and leered at her through the screen. “Thanks for the show, Angel.”

“Wait.” Her halo caught the light and she blinked. “That’s it?”

Blank-faced, he stared at her. “What’s it?”

“You’re.... fine now?” she asked hesitantly. “Like... what about the hours of post-orgasmic bliss? The coma-like floating on an endless cloud of pleasure? Waves upon waves of…”

“Oh _shut up,_ this is The Bad Place,” he grumbled. “I’m lucky I came at all.”

“So....” She opted for diplomacy. “In The Bad Place, orgasms are short and have no side-effects. How very interesting.”

His plump lips, unintentionally, she is sure, pouted as she described orgasms in The Good Place. They last as long as the individual can stand but not _too_ long, the relaxing feeling that follows for days afterwards, the sense of oneness and rightness in the universe that comes with giving oneself over to pure pleasure, whether by yourself or with others, as the Makers intended.

He shook his head, disbelieving. “You don’t masturbate in The Good Place. It’s a sin!” His eyes darted over her face thoughtfully. For a moment, he looked concerned. “It is a sin, isn’t it? Please tell me it’s a sin.”

“It is not a sin,” she smiled sweetly at him. 

“Jiminy forking Crickets,” he muttered, rubbing his hand down his face as her Good Place filter translated his cursing in her head into harmless, silly phrases. But he’d really said _Jesus fucking Christ, so..._

“Yes, exactly,” she confirmed.

“Why the fork am I doing it if it’s not a sin?” he pouted.

“It’s only a sin if, like most things, you’re doing it to hurt someone else. If you’re just soothing yourself, or making yourself happy…”

“Who gives a shirt about happy, what about slaking your animal lusts, carnal and—” 

“The Makers gave us—well, not ‘us’ as in me and you—we're taught to say ‘us’ you know, if we end up talking to humans about this—” 

He stared at her, wide-eyed, as if he can’t quite figure out how he got in this horrible conversation. He did not care about her take on human sexuality. Rose moved on.

“Certainly you have _sex_ in The Bad Place?” 

“Of course!” Hux’s lips were a thin line. “Orgies. Decadent, depraved, filthy orgies. All the time.”

“Oh?” prompted Rose. Hux huffed, like he wished she’d change the subject. But she needed this conversation to _go places_ and talking about sex was the shortest route to her goal. Demons were _prideful,_ right? So it stood to reason that Hux would be a lot likelier to agree to hook up if he thought it was his idea. “When was the last time you went to one?”

He looked around, his eyes avoiding the Zoom screen for the first time all day. “I’ve been busy.” At her raised eyebrow, he admitted, “And this will likely not surprise you, this being The Bad Place, but they’re not that fun.” 

She nodded, doing her best to look desperately engaged, mentally begging him to speed up. 

He took the bait. “Just a legion of the same old faces you’ve seen for millenia, all trying to get themselves off and not caring what they do to accomplish that task—while also not caring if anyone else gets off—makes for a really terrible orgy.” 

He scratched the back of his neck as his eyes drifted to an unidentified point off camera. “All demons know is how to look out for Number One, no matter the context. Selfishness is important down here. So. There’s a lot of masturbating.” His shoulders twiched half-heartedly. “Even at the orgies.”

Rose fought the impulse to lay her head down on the desk and giggle. Nearly four and a half billion years old, she should be past these mad impulses, like macking on intriguing, sex-obsessed little demons, but it’s been awhile since anyone has caught her fancy like Hux did from jump. And now she has him right where she wants him.

“I see,” she licked her lips. “But the Makers gave fire demons two-headed penises, so I suppose they meant you to use them for _some_ purpose. Two heads implies two points of pleasure. But it could just be double the pleasure for yourself, I really wouldn’t know.”

She handed him an opening in the conversation she hoped he would take, and he did. His eyes glinted again now, red and dangerous. 

_“Would_ you like to know, Angel?”

Which is how Rose finds herself on the 730 direct from the Pearly Gates to Mexico City with a suite booked at the Four Seasons.

Blessedly, The Good Place has an excellent rewards program for gold card holders.

The room was in Rose’s name; she’d foot the bill for incidentals—not that it mattered—her credit limit was infinite, with no interest rate. The _God Forgives_ program meant it didn’t actually cost anything, since there’s no capitalism in The Good Place.

What would happen in that hotel room somewhat remained to be seen. Two consenting adults, ancient beyond days and practically all-knowing should be able to spend time alone at a fancy five star Earth resort without it being a _thing._

Rose had said she was just looking for a little fun, wanted to keep things low-key, just have some laughs. Hux replied that he’d bring the condoms, because he was sure they didn’t sell the type that would fit him on Earth. 

So she had an idea of _his_ expectations. 

She didn’t bother to tell Hux condoms weren’t necessary. They were both of the order of Angels, untouchable by disease and unable to procreate—the power to create life was reserved for the Makers and the mortals—but in this case, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Demons tended to be comfortable with ignorance, as a rule. 

Earthbound, Rose’s neck tensed with the discomfort of hiding her wings and halo from the humans she passed. She _hated_ concealing her true form. Well, perhaps _hate_ was too strong a word.

In her natural form, she overflowed with celestial power—pure energy straight from the font of all love and creation—and concealing such magnificence was kind of a pain. 

It was difficult to maintain human form—fleshly bodies were so restrictive. How could someone truly express herself with only one face instead of her natural four? With clipped wings instead of a fearsome set of three, all twice the length of her body, protruding from her shoulders, spine, and lower back? Wings all covered in feathers, with dazzling jewel-toned geometric patterns? Not to mention only having one set of human eyes instead of her all-seeing wheels within wheels. 

Human bodies sucked; they moved so slow, could see so little. Nervously, she wandered through an intricate wrought iron door and into the Four Seasons lobby, wondering if Hux was already upstairs.

“Reserva para Tico,” she said, looking around, distracted by her boring little reflection in the polished marble floor. But almost instantly she’d been handed a key and was on her way upstairs.

She didn’t see him as she entered. The door opened into a bright, modern suite furnished with large couches on a red and white area rug. To the side, a dark wooden door led off to the bedroom. On the far wall, full length windows opened up onto a balcony overlooking the lavishly gardened courtyard. The outside air was warm, but balmy, a little more humid than she was used to, but then again, it was never too humid or too hot in The Good Place. Here in Mexico, her white wrap dress started to cling. 

After tipping the bellboy, she dropped her purse, rolled her shoulders and stretched, still looking around. She kicked off her sandals. “Anyone here?” she called out. 

A creaking noise from the balcony caught her attention. Hux had moved; he leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, his shoulders sharp in a tight black button up under a velour waistcoat the color of coal. 

Rose’s mouth watered; his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows revealing lean, sinewy forearms; his blood-red tie had a double windsor knot. His wings were shut tight and his legs were long, just as she'd guessed, and crossed at the ankle, clad in crisp black slacks that even her single set of human eyes could tell were doing real good things for his ass. His hair was a flame of red and his horns caught the light of the setting sun, filtered through the courtyard and Mexico City’s light haze of air pollution.

She clasped her hands. “Thank you God,” she murmured. “You are Good and all your creations are _Good,”_ she continued as Hux straightened and shook his head at her. 

“Get over here Angel,” he purred, his voice a molasses invitation. He held out a pale hand. “You want to talk to God? I can help you with that.”

She smiled, slotting his fingers between hers. “It’s _see_ God, not _talk_ to him, I think.”

“Whatever.” His eyes glowed, brighter now that they were touching. “No more talking to the boss. You’re on vacation.”

Heat rolled off him in waves, the air shimmering around his shoulders, where his wings, dark and leathery, shadowed his pale face. The air between them charged, electrons buzzing frenetically in the pull of their combined cosmic gravity. Rose stood very still, entranced by the flickering in his eyes, the wicked curve of his lips. 

Her white gown rippled in the breeze caused by the little snaps of his wings and the excited trembling of hers. His red eyes held her black ones captive, and she wouldn’t have let him break this exhilarating eye contact for anything on God’s green Earth. 

Hux raised his free hand. He held it, just in front of her, above her breasts. The heat that radiated out from his body was _incredible._ He was gathering his power, which she could sense was always so controlled, to bring it to bear for her benefit. She was more than willing to let him put on a show for her. 

Folding his fingers into a fist, he popped his pointer finger back out, and a small flame, extended from the tip, like a candle. His eyes still not leaving hers, he brought his finger to the center of her bodice, right between her breasts, and blew gently, his lips, a slight round pucker, which she was unintentionally imitating. His breath tickled her chest.

He extinguished the flame at the tip of his finger, leaving a smoking ember, which he touched to the front of her gown. Jaggedly, Rose inhaled as he dragged his finger against her, the heat of his hand sizzling against her body, between her breasts, down her belly, between her legs. The fire within him burned a line down her dress until he was kneeling before her, having sliced it open from top to bottom. The scent of the scorched fibers drifted around her head as she rolled her shoulders and the dress fell to the floor. She’d foregone undergarments; he licked his lips as he took in her naked human form: glorious long black hair and golden breasts accented with brushed bronze nipples.

With a gleeful grin, she spread her arms and permitted one pair of white wings to explode from her back, feathers fluffing outward in blissful freedom. With a happy sigh she considered the demon on his knees before her, looking at her under hooded eyes, and she leaned forward, stroking his wings, softly.

“These are so beautiful.” Her hand rocked over the firm bones. “So strong.”

Hux shifted awkwardly beneath her touch but he held his tongue and she was grateful. So she’d knocked him off his game with her one-two punch of eagerness and tenderness, neither of which he was used to receiving. But he waited patiently as she petted him, shivers running through his frame as she caressed the knobby joints encased in tightly stretched skin. She lost herself in the caresses, pondering his comments about Bad Place sex. 

Reading between the lines, he was used to his sex partners primarily looking out for their own needs, if not completely ignoring his. Maybe he did want to experience something new and fun, but there was pleasure to be found in the familiar, at least at first. So it was endearing how he allowed her the liberty of this sweetness; his wings were unexpectedly, agreeably, touchable. But it was time to hand the reins over, and she knew just how to do it: take the reins up herself, and entice him into wrestling them away from her. 

“Hux,” she drawled authoritatively. One hand dropped down to caress his horns, rubbing her thumb against the ridges she found there. “Set me on fire.”

With a vicious pull, she brought his face to her cunt. Her other hand she brought low to her belly and with her fingers, pulled herself up and open, her slit wide and on display. It was an obvious command; his eyes went wide, but he didn’t waste time.

He gripped her thighs painfully tight and licked a _deliciously_ wet stripe up her center, the heat of his mouth blazing through her, setting off a hot pulsing in her pussy. She gasped as her spine curled forward in delight, her hands coming to rest on his horns as his face began to bob between her legs, and she held on for dear life. 

“Fuck, you are _wet.”_ He devoured her, gently tugging on her folds as his tongue, long and flexible, snaked between to lap up the moisture his ministrations wrung from her body. 

She moaned, clutching his horns as her hips began to snap. His hands slid to the back of her thighs, squeezing the lower part of her ass, encouraging her movements. Pulling her sharply into him as he continued to tongue-fuck her, he sucked on her clit in long, electric pulls. She was shouting his name, so close to her climax so quickly it was difficult to believe she was on Earth, where these things usually took awhile. 

Hux shifted on his knees, his slacks sliding on the polished floor, and he lost his rhythm for a moment. Growling with frustration as Rose’s ascent to orgasm stuttered, his wings slapped out to their full width, blocking the light from the windows before swinging them closed around Rose’s back, cocooning them in darkness, surrounding her with his scent and his heat. 

The move knocked her off her feet, quite literally. She felt his wings supporting her back and her ass sliding against the leathery skin as he pulled her legs around him, her feet no longer touching the floor. Her breath caught in her throat; the angle allowed him to delve deeper into her body, grunting as he ate at her, melting her from the inside out. 

“So fucking delicious,” he managed between licks and sucks. She barely heard him over her own cries. Within seconds he had her hurtling again towards the peak. “So fucking sweet, I’ve never tasted _sweet_ be—you—you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

Her head spinning, Rose thrashed in the embrace of Hux’s wings, now jerking roughly on his horns, riding his face from beneath, feeling the fine feathers of her wings catch on the rough leather of his. It was the sweetest pleasure-pain she’d experienced in what felt like _millions_ of years and she whined as his tongue slid to circle her clit. Two long fingers replaced the tongue, curling and pressing deep inside her, finding the spot that made her see stars—and she knew all the stars by name— 

His fingers pistoned in and out, her pussy squelching with arousal, heated with every pass of his tongue until she felt her thighs sizzle as they trembled around him. 

“Yes, Hux,” she chanted, rocketing her pussy into his face as he _sucked. “Yes, yes, yes!”_ Coming with a scream, she felt herself rise up like a wave, wetness coating Hux’s chin and fingers as she climaxed, weightless and blind and completely at his mercy.

He slowed, gently working her through the final shudders as she dropped her legs and he parted his wings, allowing her to stand once again. 

He was still on his knees.

Rose stumbled backwards until she felt the area rug under her feet and sat back on the couch with a little squeak. “So good,” she pressed her hands to her breasts and lower belly, humming. “So good.” 

_“Fuck.”_ His eyes were fixed, unblinking on her body. She pulsed with a golden aura of pleasure, radiant with the ecstasy he’d given her. Her wings shook and glittering down rained around her. 

Hux’s slacks were tight around his waist, the outline of a thick, double-headed cock clearly visible. He pressed a hand to it. 

“C’mere bad boy,” she murmured, pitching her voice just _so._

When he was close enough, Rose reached and yanked on his tie; the sinews of his throat straining as she used it to pull herself up. Standing, he crowded her against the couch, growling in approval. 

Pulling the tie loose, Rose quickly released the buttons on his vest and tore his shirttails from his pants as he kissed her throat, his hands squeezing her shoulders and neck. Taking both sides of the crisp shirt in each hand, she pulled it apart as quickly as she could, buttons popping as the shirt opened to reveal his chest, muscled, porcelain, and perfect. 

Rose gasped as her hands met his skin—overwarm to her touch—like a furnace. She could feel the smoldering beneath, how the bellows of his lungs fed the fire inside. Her head fell back as he sucked sharply where her neck met her shoulder, her wings trembling. She pushed the clothes off him, her fingertips quickly bumping down his chiseled abdominals until she found the fastener on his pants. With shaking hands, she opened it, desperate to have him naked as the day he was created and to see what he could do with that two-headed bludgeon in his briefs.

With a growl, Hux lightly pushed her; she landed on her backside, bouncing towards the couch’s far armrest as he toed off his shoes and kicked his pants to the side. He shot her a sly look. “Not going to make it to the bedroom, are we?”

She bit her lip and slowly shook her head _no._ He was doing so well. Hot as hell, promisingly bossy. If he could make her laugh—demons tended to struggle having a sense of humor—she might have to keep him.

He palmed his cock, thick and red, with two weeping heads. Small wisps of steam circled his body. “What am I going to do with you, Angel?”

She grinned and pitched her voice low. “Fuck me like you caught me standing still at one of your Bad Place orgies.”

🔥😈🔥

A wicked smile curling his lips, Hux leaned forward and grabbed Rose’s ankle, gratified when his hand could easily circle the delicate bones. He dragged her towards him, up the arm of the couch, and she whooped in glee as he rolled her over with a bounce, his hands moving decisively on her hips. 

Rose’s cunt had been the softest thing he’d ever touched. The tan hood over her clit had the smoothest skin; the wetness he’d encountered was slippery and sweet. It was an unexpected decadence to find in such hallowed packaging. He was greedy for more. 

Placing her ass-up over the high couch arm, he admired the contrast of her golden body against his pale skin, before he pulled his hand back and _smacked_ her ass, right where it met her thigh. Her long, breathy gasp ended on a squeak of pleasure and she wiggled, moving her ass closer in obvious encouragement. 

“Like I caught you standing still,” Hux muttered, rubbing his hand over the red mark left by his hand before continuing. “You—think—you’re—so—funny—” He punctuated each word with another firm spank, Rose shrieking with glee beneath him, propped up on her forearms and rubbing her pussy on the fabric of the sofa beneath her. 

“Little Angel, teasing me on the Zoom call.” A deep, rough sound tore from her throat as his hand drifted between her legs pulling her cunt away from where she was rubbing herself; he gathered up some moisture and circled her clit with his fingertips. Rose sighed, apparently beyond words, so he continued. “Putting those knockout tits right in front of the camera.” 

He looked down at her. “But I’ve been ignoring them,” he crooned, leaning forward, his fingertip now pressed promisingly between her pussy lips, but not filling her. She groaned, pushing back on the finger still lightly dancing over her most sensitive skin; he continued to tease. “But those bewitching, pretty breasts shouldn’t be ignored, should they, Angel?” 

Rose moaned, her head resting on her arms, crossed beneath her on the sofa.

His voice was sinful temptation, a dark bird’s soft song. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

She turned her head to the side, grimacing from want, pouting as she undulated her body towards him. He made a questioning noise and ever so subtly, began to drag his fingers away from her cunt. 

“No, don’t,” Rose smiled even as the words burst out of her and he had the distinct feeling that she was _proud_ of him. She pushed back on Hux’s fingers and he permitted one thick digit to breach her core; she cried out, squirming as he curled his finger inside her, searching. 

“Rub your tits on the couch for me, then,” he ordered. “Do it, or I’ll take my hand away.”

Heaving, Rose lifted herself up on her arms until only the tips of her breasts still touched the couch. With a sob of pleasure, she levered herself back and forth on her forearms, her nipples dragging across the couch cushion, rough fabric catching on the already puckered tips. He leaned forward and placed his hand on her neck, guiding her so that she fucked herself on his finger. 

“Yes, just like that.” The unfamiliar words of praise fell smoothly from his tongue. “You’re so eager for this, aren’t you, Angel?” He added another finger and she increased her pace, sliding her body back against the couch, her breasts turning red with the scratchy stimulation. “But greed’s not a sin, baby. Not here—” 

“Yes, please yes, don’t stop—” she babbled the words on repeat as he added a third finger. She gasped and groaned, his hand on her neck now pulling her towards him, helping her move against the intrusion of his hand breaching the lush ambrosia of her core.

“Don’t stop what Angel?” he asked, unable to resist taking more praise.

“Your _hands,”_ she wailed. “I knew they’d be good—I knew you’d be—I wanted—so bad—” Her cunt began to tremble. “Please, Hux, please—.” She was pulsing around his hand, her legs twitching involuntarily, her wings extending to their full span as she climaxed. “More. _Please, more!”_

Unable to resist her pretty begging any longer, he hoisted her up and aligned his cock with her drenched pussy. Hesitating momentarily, he hummed. When he didn’t move for another awkward moment, Rose flapped her wings; Hux almost chuckled at her impatience. 

“Hux, we don’t need the condoms, what are you—”

“It’s not that,” he explained as she whined. “I know we don’t need them, that was a _joke,_ they’re _novelty_ items—”

She paused for a beat, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “A joke? Then why aren’t you—”

“Because _I don’t think I will fit.”_ Which he should have realized earlier, when—even as slick as she was—he could barely fit a third finger into her pocket-sized pussy. He’d gone back to two after a few thrusts, and he didn’t think she’d noticed.

Rose looked back over her shoulder, questioning.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it, Angel.” He bumped her mound ineffectually with his two broad cockheads. “Your body is…” _Perfect,_ he thought. “What it is,” he said. “And I’m a demon, not a _monster.”_

Rose took a moment. Hux’s lip curled in frustration as her passion ebbed. She’d soon put a stop to their… _relations._ Fuck. And things were just getting good. As he fumed, she stroked his side with her leg. She was still bent over the sofa arm; he felt calmer.

Rose rubbed a hand down her face and began to pull away. “I knew this boring body wouldn’t—”

“Not boring, no—” Kicking his mind into gear, he caressed her ribs, her ass, and began bargaining. He really didn’t want to stop now. She’d come and he hadn’t, for one. He may as well be back in The Bad Place by that account. “I like it—and your true form—I just don’t know if I can fuck it. Regardless, there are other things we can do that don’t involve... _that._ ” He gestured below his waist, but Rose was already shaking her head _no._

Disappointed, Hux bit the inside of his cheek. So this is how it would end. He’d been looking forward to this, but he should have kept his expectations low. When Rose had agreed to meet up she’d been fairly clear that her interest lay in getting dicked down—and since he was failing to deliver, who could blame her for kicking him to the curb? He wondered if she’d mind staying in the room while he jerked off. 

So the vehemence in her voice surprised him. “We came all this way, I’m not leaving here until I experience _that.”_

She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and he followed the direction of her eyes where they were fixed on his cock. His palm supported the base, fingers flexing around the sensitive spot where it split into two shafts, one on top of the other and both visible over his fist. The lower one was thick and angry; a red-purple vein of blood visibly throbbing beneath delicate skin. The top shaft was red and weeping, hot drops of precum sizzling as they slid down towards his hand. He squeezed himself, wondering if he should just get on with it. 

When Rose next spoke, eyes closed, her voice was low, ancient, and penetrating. Hux was unable to make a sound; dust motes hung in the air, unmoving.

“Attend me.” Her voice was multi-layered, an echo of the time before time; she wasn’t speaking to him. “I sing the song of creation. I perceive the foundation of all things. In each cell of my body, I hear the roar of the atomic engine. The force and the energy; they obey me.” Her voice pitched lower and louder. “I contrived this form. I order and control its limits.” 

Hux watched with trepidation; Rose going old-school seraphim was more than he had bargained for and absolutely outside his realm of experience. He hadn’t even considered the scope of her creative powers. But—he mentally shrugged—even if they were limited, at least she’d given herself a stunning and sensitive vulva. Even if the passage inside was, well. Extremely traditional.

“Here.” Rose’s tone was firm; she brought a hand back to her cunt and pulled it open. Hux felt a cool, tingling sensation where his cock was pressed against her pretty, round ass. Her body was transforming via her creative celestial powers. She hummed, low in her throat, the spell broken. 

Suddenly, he could hear his heart beating. A roaring in his ears. She’d changed herself. _For him._

“Try again, tiger.”

Her soft words strangled him in slow motion. An unknown tension blocked his throat, overwhelming him. His chest felt _full_ and his tongue lay thick in his mouth.

If this was what the receiving end of _kindness_ felt like, he wasn’t sure he liked it. He slapped his wings sharply against his back a few times, hopefully leaving a welt on his shoulder blades, the brief pain a healthy distraction from the agony of being cared for. He refocused his attention on their bodies.

Idly, he traced her opening with his fingers; she sighed, returning her hand to the couch, and raised herself back towards him, like an offering. He concentrated on the feel of her and the glassy slick flesh of her cunt, likely the closest to heaven he’d ever be. 

In place of the vaguely oblong opening he’d felt before, now when he traced the margins of her sex, it was… decidedly different. His fingers outlined a figure eight or, somehow—impossibly—an infinity loop. But it was the right sized opening; he took himself in hand, trembling in anticipation.

Slipping both heads in, just the tips at first, the tight squeeze stole his breath. Rose was chanting in a whisper, his name, curses, a prayer in some ancient language he didn’t understand. His heart was pounding as her cunt clenched, pulling at him, sucking him deeper. 

Gripping her hips until they dimpled, he tilted back to get the correct angle and, with a shout of triumph, slid home. Beneath him, Rose wailed and tossed her head, pushing against him until her spread legs were flush against his hip bones. His hands were shaking; he felt as if he’d crush her, he was holding her so tight. 

Inside her body, she had done… a miraculous thing. After the novel opening, which she’d created _just for him,_ her channel narrowed to squeeze him deliciously and then she _split—_ just like he did. One passage curled toward her pubic bone while the other led straight. The first path directed one of his heads into a spongy cul-de-sac that had Rose twitching and moaning when he dragged against it at the proper angle. The second sank his other cockhead deep into her cunt, to where he could feel the wall of sensitive flesh guarding the end of her channel, the deepest part of her.

He made it his goal to feel _everything._ As much as he could, anyway, before she ascended back to whatever fucking cloud she lived on, took her miraculous cunt away, and ended whatever _this_ was. Silently cursing himself for not having thought to have built up his stamina before meeting her here, he sucked in a breath and began to thrust.

“Perfect—tight—little—” was all he managed. 

The air in the room began to shimmer. Rose’s wings fanned her body as desire made him molten. He drove into her, deep and forcefully, his rhythm rough but steady, every muscle straining. Her sweat evaporated on contact with his hands; the room smelled of her sex, like dark, heated honey. 

Rose came apart underneath him as pleasure coiled in his belly—how would he ever exist without this? He pulled back and the ridge of his cockhead ground against her g-spot. He plunged forward and she convulsed around him as the tip of his second shaft grazed hidden, sensitive tissues. There was no second of respite from the relentless circle of pleasure they had created together. Powering forward, fueled by her moans, her praise, her willing, pliant flesh, he lost himself in the fucking. 

Vibrating so fiercely, his hair fell out of place, slipping over his horns, into his eyes. He refused to take his hands off her body to address it, but at that moment, Rose’s arms gave out. Collapsing on the couch, Hux fell forward over her, his wings catching him from crushing her completely. 

Rose wailed as he pulled out with a grunt; pushing her wings closed, he flipped her over and tossed her back on the couch. 

Kneeling over her, one foot on the floor, even with his wings shading her from the light of the setting sun, her face glowed. She caught his eye and held it as she led his aching cock back to her cunt. 

Once inside, Rose brought her hand to her face and blew on it, shaking her fingers. Her eyes were full of mischief. 

“Hot stuff,” she smirked up at him. “I think you left some scorch marks on the sofa there, tiger.”

He couldn’t help himself, he kissed her. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t already—her mouth was open, her little pink tongue sitting behind her teeth was welcoming—and her willing lips eagerly met his. As he sank into her body, she moaned into his mouth, her small hands cupping his jaw and he felt—he felt— 

Rolling his hips in time with the sweeps of his tongue, he caressed her arm, then rubbed his thumb over a nipple; Rose whined and he dropped his hand lower, down her belly. So much of his body was touching so much of hers it made him dizzy.

Rose wiggled slightly, freeing her wings. The tips of them curled up under his to caress his back, tickling his thighs with her feathers. It was even better than he’d imagined. Because now he knew what it felt like to _feel good._

His thumb found her clit and she gasped; he thrummed it gently, persistently. He kissed her as if they had all the time in the world. He gave a little moan as he captured her lips in his before wetly separating as he moved to kiss her neck.

“Yes,” Rose directed as her head fell back. “I’m close— please, please, don’t stop, please never stop—” 

“Yes,” he agreed.

She was the rising sun and he worshipped her. Maybe that was heresy, but how could he care when her legs were open and curled against his ribs? When her hands were in his hair, stroking his horns as if they were precious to her?

He could do this, he could be selfless, just a little. Just for her. “So fucking gorgeous,” he breathed. “Come for me, Angel.” He was so close himself now but he wanted to wait. Sinking into her hot little body was like submerging in a magma bath at the end of a hard day, only better. He never wanted this to end. But as her cunt began to quiver around him, he let go.

The orgasm blew through him like a firestorm. His bones, his flesh, his _soul_ were the kindling, all stripped away into dust. He felt reborn, recreated. He roared her name as he released everything he was into her, nerves jangling, heart pounding, as the cooling wind of her catharsis mixed with the smoldering embers of his, and surrounded them in mist.

🌠🔥🌠🔥🌠

They did, eventually, make it to the bed. 

Rose had to fix a few scorch marks on the couch, explaining how humans had invested quite a bit of time and thought into developing anti-inflammatory fabrics, so he shouldn’t feel bad that the thing hadn’t spontaneously combusted in the face of his passion—and he’d felt the need to thank her for the compliment with an excessive display of the same—but yes, they did, eventually, make it off the couch and onto the bed. 

Leaning against the headboard, Hux piled the pillows behind them and tucked Rose under his arm. The stars were visible through the large bedroom window, and the evening breeze was pleasant. Across town, bells were ringing, deep and melodious. Rose said it was Christmas, and when he asked why he should care, she sucked on his ear and in a deep, slow voice, told him she’d give him a gift later. Her black eyes glittered as they perused his lap, covered by the bed sheet; she licked her lips promisingly. 

He fought the urge to kiss the top of her head. He thought about lust and greed and gluttony. Reminded himself he hadn’t defiled her elbows yet. His thumb absentmindedly traced the line of her delicate collarbone. 

Something about him had changed. He looked the same. His powers were the same. But Rose’s small, curvy frame snuggled against his chest. Her little dimpled knees rested on his thigh. He was on board with _Christmas._ Even if she did ascend back to the clouds and lose his number, he’d never completely hate her. 

Rose’s small fingers played across his chest; he was sure she'd had a good time. Maybe she could be convinced to make this a regular thing. It’s not like he had anything going for him in The Bad Place. He wasn't quite sure what she needed that he could provide... So, maybe. One day. 

As a demon, he was well aware that no one knew what the future held, not the Makers who created all destinies, not the stars who forged all of life’s paths. 

But there were some decisions that didn’t need to be made right away. Not when you had all eternity to make them. So he kissed the top of her head. 

“You really like my true form?” she asked.

“Absolutely.” He pulled back to look her in the eye and give her a wink. “All those arms? Very sexy.” 

Rose’s eyes glittered before she snuggled impossibly closer. Her hands rested firm and heavy on his body. “I think I’d like to hold on to you for a little while, Hux.” 

Her voice was full of promise and feeling good still felt so novel that he couldn’t help making a joke. He waggled his fingers in her face. “In that case, mind if I smoke?” 

And as he’d hoped she would, she laughed. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [AnnieMar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieMar/works) & [RedRoseWhite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedRoseWhite/works) for encouragement and great tagging advice. 
> 
> Happy Holidays Eyanril! I hope you enjoyed. And thanks to everyone on the GR Discord, especially the mods, for making Secret Spy the greatest holiday exchange yet! 
> 
> Come say [hi on twitter](https://www.twitter.com/spoonfulofsalad) and please [click here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_big_deal) to subscribe for notification of future fics!


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